


Second Anniversary

by heyfrenchfreudiana



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Crossdressing Kink, Established Relationship, F/M, Married Life, Oral Sex, Panties, Romanogers Smut Week, Underwear Kink, no idea how to tag this, obviously, romanogers2k16 smut week, subby steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 03:24:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6313486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyfrenchfreudiana/pseuds/heyfrenchfreudiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Day 1 of Romanogers Smut Week and in response to a prompt for Natasha to give Steve underwear with her name on it (a prompt I've diverted from). </p><p> </p><p>  <i>On the morning of their second anniversary, Natasha told Steve to close his eyes so that she could give him his anniversary gift, and Steve honestly expected socks.</i></p><p> </p><p>It's not socks. Steve doesn't mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> Wilson Pickett is excellent to go with this one. Play anything by Wilson Pickett. 
> 
> ahh I hope I did this okay.

On the morning of their second anniversary, Natasha told Steve to close his eyes so that she could give him his anniversary gift, and Steve honestly expected socks. A tie. Maybe some colored pencils or a new sketchbook. He had a box underneath his side of the bed that he was waiting to pass over ( _knives that set him back over two thousand and he wasn’t sure if she’d appreciate that she could use them in the kitchen as much as to kill, not that he’d tell her how to use a gift_ ), but she’d stuck out her bottom lip and asked to give her gift first.

A nice flat box. Light and when he shook it, it barely made any noise at all. (Yes, definitely a necktie.) (Not that he didn’t trust her taste, she’d led him into the twenty-first century after all).

He slid his thumbs through the sides, snapping the tape so that he could lift the lid. Soft blue tissue paper and her on her knees beside him, looking with one eyebrow arched as he peeled open his gift.

“I…” he opened his mouth and then shut it right back, glancing from the gift and back up to her. His cheeks didn’t burn for the fabric in front of him, not like they would have burned had she given him these things two years ago. Dark blue, lace and mesh and…

Well. He did blush. A little.

“Wow, this is...wow,” he said with bated breath, pulling the lingerie set out carefully. He had an idea she’d spent a pretty penny on it, knowing that underwear wasn’t something that Natasha was cheap about. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”

Natasha hummed and when he looked her way, she’d stretched out beside him like a cat, clearly pleased with herself. “Actually, it’s not for me.”

Steve furrowed his brow, feeling like a dolt. Who could it even be for then, if not her? They were married, wasn’t like either of them had a girl on the side or anything…

“Don’t you think the blue would bring out your eyes?”

It would. Steve could think objectively about colors and contrasts to see that. But he stammered around the gift nonetheless. He’d indulge just about any kink Natasha had. She was almost always right and moreover, he loved her. And yet he thought it was probably his duty as a hot-blooded American man to question _this_ one, to pretend he didn’t understand even when he damn well did.

“Second anniversary is cloth, Steve,” she purred, walking fingers over to the box so that she could gingerly lift up the balconette bra.

“You could have bought me socks,” he gulped, looking over to see her, giving him all the little signals that even the thought had her hot. Sleepy eyes and biting her lip? Steve knew he was toast.

“You said you would…” she shrugged, putting everything back, tucking the paper over as if to suggest she wouldn’t push it.

Steve groaned because he _had_ said that, it was true. He’d been in the middle of a discussion with the team, when Natasha had suggested pairs. Land and air, with her and Cap landing on the boat just as they’d done with the Lemurian Star. Not an entirely illogical suggestion, but even if Tony agreed, he scoffed on principle when Steve seemed to take her advice into consideration.

“Jesus, Cap, you do everything she tells you to do? We know who wears the pants in this relationship.”

Steve wasn’t going to dignify that with a comment until later, when they were on the field and he was directing Iron Man toward the hostages.

“I’m going, I’m going. Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Tony had said over the comms. “The ones I know Widow makes you wear.”

“I would, you know,” Steve said without thinking because God, Stark knew all the buttons to push. “And I wouldn’t be ashamed of it either.”

“TMI,” Clint interrupted the argument before it got started. But Steve had said it anyway, the damage had been done and his admission was floating into the air, heard then and later because it had been recorded.

The Black Widow had Captain America wearing knickers. He didn’t miss the nods and smirks passed his way after that one. And he thought he didn’t really care, not too much at least. Because it wasn’t like she’d ever actually ask him to do that, and even if she did, he was sure it was no big deal. He’d do it for her, no problem.

“I did say that, Natasha,” he said bravely, moving the paper back again and squinting his eyes. “Really?”

She nodded, that look in her eyes that said she was definitely serious and Steve sighed.

***

The plan had been to wear them underneath his regular clothes, something that gave him immediate relief until he was actually sitting at his desk hours later, staring at a laptop screen and trying to focus.

The fabric was light, barely there except _very much there_ , the lace and elastic burning into his skin. He hadn’t even taken the chance to look when he’d put them on, feeling nervous and embarrassed and aroused more than he wanted to admit. Aroused by the idea definitely but also by the fact that he was doing it for her, that Natasha would see. That _Natasha_ would be aroused.

 _Can’t wait to see,_ she texted him throughout the day. _So wet for you. Are you wet for me?_

“Christ,” Steve whispered, fumbling with the keyboard to his phone. He didn’t know how he’d make it through the day and in fact did sneak to the bathroom once or twice to feel the silk on his palms, to cup himself through the fabric in fascination. He participated, just barely, in a good handful of meetings, blaming his poor concentration on lack of sleep though Clint definitely gave him some weird looks. And that sent Steve’s blood pressure through the roof. Did Clint know? She told Clint just about everything, but weren’t some things sacred?

Steve couldn’t breathe, aching to touch and be touched, the entire day an exercise in delayed gratification and thought stopping. Natasha was wet, said she couldn’t wait to peel the panties off him. His panties. Couldn’t wait to peel _his_ panties off…

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she said when he got home, a beer in each hand. And he could have said the same for her, he wanted her so desperately. Natasha had chosen that day to wear a suit, red hair in a tight chignon. No doubt intentional. No doubt to fuck with him. He didn’t care, his eyes racing over the dark pants and the vest that cinched her waist. Holy hell, she’d even worn a tie. Natasha understood theatrics, he figured, not able to fault her one bit.

“I don’t think I can have a proper conversation with you until I get out of these,” he growled, pulling her close, pressing his lips against hers to convey urgency.

“I’d like to see what I’ve purchased, yes,” she grinned, reaching to slip the buttons of his shirt through their holes. “Like to see how pretty you look.”

Steve’s cheeks burned but he complied, moving her hands so that he could strip, so that he could take a slow turn around when she asked for it. Natasha leaned back against the wall and took a sip from her beer, leering in a way that made him whimper.

“Oh baby,” she put her bottle on the ground and walked over slowly, putting her cold palms on his chest and making him shiver. “This is a lot nicer than I thought it would be.”

Steve frowned. “You hadn’t thought I’d look good?”

Natasha laughed, fingering the strap to his bra. “Well. I mean, it’s not necessarily one of my things, you know. But you do have great tits. And I was right about the color.”

Steve melted underneath that praise, tabling the thoughts about how he’d for a second been worried that she might not like it because she _did_ like it in the end. He felt like a dressed-up ape but her eyes were dark and appreciative, and that _took_ precedent.

“Natasha,” he whispered, voice thick because he could barely speak and she pursed her lips, deep in thought.

“Trying to figure out what I want to do first,” she said calmly. “See if I can get you to come in those panties or have you eat me out.”

Sophie’s choice for Steve, in all honesty. Because he did want to get off. Desperately in fact, had been since the ten am meeting with Research and Development. But would that also be selfish? He didn’t want to be selfish, even if Natasha accused him all the time of having issues with codependency that flirted with martyrdom. Making Natasha come, watching her body shake and hearing the little Russian words she only used with him. That was just about one of his all-time favorite things.

“What do you want?” she asked, crooking a finger under his chin so that he would look at her.

“Whatever you want,” he breathed, not wanting to make a commitment.

“I could make you come another time,” she teased, hooking her fingers on the waistband of the underwear that hung on his hips. He must have looked at her like she was suggesting torture because she laughed, kissing him quickly on the lips.

“I could, but that wouldn’t be a good anniversary gift, would it?” Natasha sighed playfully.

“No, it’s okay. I’d like to…” Steve stammered and she looked up at him in such a way that made his chest ache. He didn’t get to explain further because she’d moved a hand to his shoulders and was pushing him down to his knees.

“If you insist,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “Make sure to stick out your ass when you do, though. I like the view.”

Steve pulled her trousers down and off, groaning because she’d worn his briefs underneath it all _goddamn._  Running hands up her thighs, he pressed his nose to her cunt and inhaled, feeling dizzy and hard and very nearly overwhelmed with it all. Knowing her, he really wouldn’t have been too surprised to find a dick underneath those briefs, stifled disappointment that there wasn’t one when he pulled the underwear down. And then he spread her apart so that he could pay good attention to her clit and give a proper thank you for his gift.

“That’s good,” she sighed, gripping his hair the way he liked as he pressed his tongue to her, tasting her, feeling just how wet she really was. He’d long figured out the little sucks and licks that got her off, knew exactly how much pressure she liked, but he found himself working slow, making sure to look up at her flushed face as he worked. _God,_ she was sin personified. And he did arch his back, did shake his ass just a little knowing she was watching, that thought alone making him moan into her. He throbbed, a tiny corner of his mind only slightly irritated that he was leaking onto the mesh. Small sacrifices for the way she rode his face, making him feel _used_ and so thankful, and he wondered if he could come just from that alone when she shivered, her knees buckling.

“Good?” he asked as she kissed him. She smirked, pushing him onto his back so that she could push his underwear aside and straddle him, taking him inside before he could say anything smart or of worth.

“Very good,” she breathed, palms on his chest as she clenched around him. It should have lasted longer, he should have lasted longer, he thought as he reached for her tie and pulled her down, fucking into her with the frustration he’d felt that entire day. It should have but it didn’t and it wasn’t long at all before his wife was panting on his chest, still running fingers around the bra, and he was thinking sleepily about how dearly he loved her.

“Oh Steve,” she kissed his throat lazily, “I have good news for you.”

“What?” he asked, holding her tight, enjoying the feel of his soft cock still very much in her.

“Third anniversary is leather.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> [This collection](http://www.journelle.com/bras/underwire-bras/mimi-holliday-deadly-nightshade-comfort-bra/MIM-AW15-71.html?dwvar_MIM-AW15-71_color=2779) was loose inspiration.


End file.
